Maybe if We Were the Same Kind of Crazy
by AreWeHavingFunYet
Summary: A nice look at what has changed since Henry met Casey. I can't decide if I'm going to continue this or not... and if I do, if I want to continue with where the show left off or change it up how I'd see fit.
1. Chapter 1

There were so many ways Henry could reflect on his life after Casey, and that was true even the day after he met her. The day after he met Casey he was shaking water out of his ears after her husband had accidentally knocked him into a swimming pool during a fit of rage. It was, without a doubt, a very tremendous first day back at work.

More significantly, however, the day after he'd met Casey he'd earned a friend he knew he would have to stand by with and comfort in the midst of her- regrettably- failing relationship. This was the first known way Henry reflected on life after Casey- in a way of friendship. For the record, Henry also couldn't deny that he liked to look back at his relationship with Casey as a "love at first sight" kind of thing. Cheesy? Sure. Truthful? We'll see.

The second way Henry could go back and look at things before Casey differently, was after she found out her husband wanted to get a divorce. Via text message. This was in fact a very significant moment in their relationship as, at the precise moment Casey received the text message, a very high Henry walked into the room. Casey herself had been drinking the host's booze all night, getting considerably drunk and not caring for a single minute, as she had known all along that her personal life was hanging by a thread. Henry's excuse was slightly similar- his personal life was the same as every other aspect of his life: only partially existent.

Regardless, mixing two relatively inebriated people together in the midst of turmoil spelled certain… consequences. And by consequences, well, let's just say they had both seen worse consequences.

Henry's life after hooking up with Casey was surprisingly great- at least for a time. His mundane, minimum wage job started to look better. He liked going to work for a failing catering company and being a lackluster bartender. He liked having to wear a "crisp" white shirt and pink bowtie.

At least, he told himself that.

In all actuality, it wasn't any of those things that made him smile every time he catered a party. It was Casey. And as sweet and romantic as that was, it was an inconvenient problem. This was supposed to lack feelings. This was supposed to be casual. And Henry wasn't upholding his end of the agreement. He loved her.

This was the third time things changed. This was the third time Henry had to rework his mind and start thinking about how different things were before he decided he'd fallen in love with Casey- and these weren't always pleasant thoughts. Things were far easier without love. There was no want, no need, no jealousy, and no ache.

Henry was a long time friend of "ache." After his first acting gig landed him a crappy role in a beer commercial, he was forever branded as, "That guy." Eight years and countless failed auditions later he had found his way back to catering for his old buddy. But even that ache had been stifled when he met Casey. And when he started to ache for Casey, in all fairness, he still liked it. He loved it and loved her and just the simple thought of waking up and seeing her. So even if he did ache, at least he had a drug to take for it. A drug that would meet his eyes from across the room and smile just because. And a drug that needed him every time she faced rejection just as much as he needed her- even if she wouldn't admit it. It was the kind of drug that had the smoothest skin and the softest eyes. And it was the kind of drug you don't realize you're addicted to until it's gone.

In all of one day, she was gone. And this was the fourth way Henry would look back at life after Casey- when he lost her.


	2. Chapter 2

There was really only one thing for Henry to do once Casey had left, and that was to get over her- to move on.

Well, honestly, there were a number of things, including moping, not sleeping, daydreaming, and losing interest in all daily activities- including eating, walking, and breathing. All of which Henry did for a long time.

He couldn't deny the fact that his heart was broken. He understood that this shit happens, and it was destined to happen to him. But that didn't make him feel even slightly better. And that's all he really wanted by the third month- to feel better. However, it was starting to feel like an impossibility.

Every morning he woke up and crossed a day off his calendar, conveniently hung on the wall next to his medicine cabinet, where he was sure to stop every morning for a nice does of Vicodin. He'd been marking off days since she had left. It was sad really. When Casey told him she was leaving to do standup comedy on a cruise ship for six months, the first thing to enter his mind (as much as he hated to admit it) was "How do I talk her out of this?" Of course a step back and a strong desire to see Casey succeed in life and be truly happy snapped him out of his selfish desires. It was when she told him she was leaving the next day that almost made him say what he really wanted to out loud.

The key word, however, is "almost." Henry said nothing when Casey left. Nothing seemed to be the right thing to say or even worth saying. He watched her drive off for the last time and felt ten thousand words working their way up his throat and still he said nothing. And now, he was paying for it every time he put a heavy slash through a day of the week. Again- it was quite sad.

Today, however, Henry was tired of feeling sad. He flipped ahead on the calendar three months, just like he'd done a dozen times before, and saw the day Casey would get back circled in bright red. Scribbled in it was a phone number- Casey's. Henry had Casey's number in his phone and in his head already, but something compelled him to write it on the calendar. He had this vision of waking up some morning and not knowing what day it was. He'd walk to the cabinet like he always did, check the date, look away, and then look back, dumbfounded to see that it was in fact the day of Casey's return. He'd then drop his pill bottle, scramble to his phone, and get to hear the sweet voice that was Casey Klein. Extended versions of this vision ended in hours of sweet love making, marriage, and tiny Casey/Henry look-alikes running around their front yard.

Henry smirked and let out small, defeated chuckle as he eyed the circled date, replaying his dreams over in his head. Even now he could see Casey's face clearly in his mind as if he'd just run into her yesterday. But a vision wasn't enough anymore. He'd sulked over being lonely and heartbroken for too long, and it was starting to wear down on his pride. This teenage angst was getting the best of him, and he had to pull himself out of it.

It took him a minute, but he slowly pulled the pushpin out of the wall that was holding the calendar up, tossed the calendar in the trash, and pulled out his phone. He hesitated for a second, took a deep breath, checked the clock to make sure it wasn't a weird time, took another deep breath, and dialed the only number he thought would help: Uda Bengt's.

"I'm glad you called, Henry. It's good to finally hear from you," Uda said, sipping her glass of chardonnay. Henry glances down at his half eaten meal and then back at Uda, smiling.

"I wasn't sure you'd even still be interested," he said casually, doing his best at attempting to flirt. It had really been awhile.

Uda sighed.

"I'll admit, it did put me off a bit when you didn't immediately call, but I can understand some people take… time to warm up to an idea. Your business is your own of course- I won't pry," she said, slicing a small piece of her chicken parmesan off and popping it into her mouth primly.

Henry smirked and cut a piece off of his own steak. Maybe if things worked out between him and Uda, then he'd tell her about Casey- at least a little anyway. But for now, it seemed like a bad way to end a first date. So, instead, the conversation went back to Uda's son, who had just turned five. Even though Uda was a bit uptight and harsh and maybe a little rough around the edges, it was nice to hear her talk about her son. You could tell that she really did enjoy her role as a mother and took it- and love for that matter- very seriously. Henry told himself that this was an important thing to look for in a relationship- someone who openly cared for others and knew the importance of actual living as opposed to dreaming. He told himself that there were certain times in life when one had to abandon "following your heart," and being foolish. He repeated it in his head so much he started to believe it.

"Well, thank you for dinner, Henry," Uda said when Henry paid for the check. "It was very good, the service a bit slow, but it was cooked precisely how I asked."

Henry nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"Yeah, I enjoyed it too. And ya know, it's good to be served instead of the other way around once in awhile, know what I mean?" Henry asked, chuckling and trying to make a bad, occupational joke. Uda was also a caterer.

Uda's face remained unchanged, however.

"I try to maintain a perfect balance of work and pleasure, Henry. I rarely discuss work outside of work. That would be impractical and unprofessional," she said, the same stony expression on her face.

Henry opened his mouth once but closed it, not knowing how to respond to that.

"That's… yeah…" he started, looking around the space above Uda's head like he usually did when he got nervous.

"I'd like you to come back to my place, Henry," Uda said, not seeming to notice how uncomfortable her last comment had made Henry. He was caught off guard again.

"Well, I um… if-"

"Not for sex. I don't have sex on first dates," she said simply, as if she said the same thing to everyone she knew daily (which, in all fairness, she just might).

"Oh," Henry started. More awkwardness ensued. His shoulders started to slump like he was going to cave in on himself. "Well I-"

"I like you, Henry," Uda said, interrupting him again. "I think you should come back to my place and we can… talk," she said, finally changing her expression to a gentle smile. Henry couldn't deny that she was very pretty- especially when she smiled.

It wasn't Uda's beauty that entered Henry's mind just then, however. At the sheer mention of going back to Uda's to "talk," Henry's thoughts drifted, of all places, back to Casey. He was thinking of the night they catered a porn star awards after party. Casey ended up getting high on ecstasy and had suggested a similar "talking" idea. At the time, with Henry's feelings towards Casey rapidly growing, the thought of bonding with her on a more emotional level- high or not- was a dream come true. Unfortunately for Henry, though, Casey ended up sick and the both of them went back to their apartments alone. Henry felt like the only guy in the world who'd ever been turned down by a chick for wanting to talk.

"Henry?" Uda snapped, impatient at the vacant stare Henry was giving her.

"What? Oh, right, talking," he started, straightening his posture and smiling. "Yeah that sounds… That sounds great."


End file.
